Scores and Scales
by Pie.Flavored.Pie
Summary: Arthur is a flute player in the World Academy Marching band. Alfred is the school's star quarterback. What happens when these two high school seniors meet due to a unlikely accident? Will they become friends? Will jealous teammates try to pry them apart?
1. Promises and Accidents

A/N: Hi there! :D This fanfiction is my first..so please enjoy Scores and scales~!

Warnings: Human names are used!

Disclaimer: I sadly, do NOT own Hetalia…but if I did, I assure you, things would certainly be different..=w=

"Gits, all of them," a clearly upset English teen muttered under his breath. His dark emerald eyes glaringly scanned the football field. "How can this even be called football? It should be called something more dignified._ Soccer, _as you stupid Americans call it, is the real football, not this bloody sport." He growled silently to himself, arms crossed against his red, yellow, and white band uniform, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

A light-haired brunette turned quickly to the troubled seventeen-year old, arms extended wide. "Veh, Arthur!" he said excitedly, "These games are fun!" the brunette smiled widely, his light-brown eyes sparkling.  
>Arthur rolled his eyes to heaven. "You only believe that, Feliciano, because you've got a crush on that Ludwig fellow." He said, extending a arm to one of the football players.<br>Feliciano watched the tall and broad Ludwig tackle an opposing team player, then blushed slightly and replied, "You know that's not true, Arthur! Ludwig is just my friend!" the small teen whimpered.

Arthur sighed and dropped his arms to his side. "Whatever, I'm just saying that-"  
>"ARTHUR! FELICIANO!" A dark haired boy yelled, waving around his piccolo, purposely interrupting Arthur. "SHUT UP! None of us who care about warm-ups(1) doesn't want to hear you two argue! Now get ready to play "Land of a Grand!(2)" With that so clearly stated, he turned around and resumed barking orders at the other flute players, who cringed with eyes wide.<p>

Arthur gave Feliciano a sideways glance, "Sheesh...Your brother is a little more grumpy than usual today." Feliciano hesitated before answering, "Yes, but Lovino means well...he's just looking out for us," He picked up his flute, then Arthur's, then paused, frowned and added, "In a really harsh way." The confused brunette just shook his head and held out Arthur's flute to him.  
>Arthur took his flute, muttering something inaudible, waiting to be called to attention(3).<p>

***Scores and Scales***

Deep emerald eyes were on the field again, while walking to the end of the field to get ready for their show(4), his gaze following each play. Suddenly, Arthur started screaming at the field, making the confused Feliciano jump, who was walking next to him, talking about the best Italian restaurant in town.

"A-Arthur, veh, are you okay...?" he asked quietly, afraid that Arthur might start yelling at him too for no apparent reason.

Arthur snapped out of it after yelling 'Foul! Foul!' at the opposing team. He turned to the light-haired Italian and asked, "What? Did you say something, Feliciano?"  
>Feliciano gave a small smile. "Veh, yes I did. But you were too busy yelling at the referee to notice...wait a second, I thought you didn't like football games." He now looked confused.<p>

Arthur flushed a bright red. "I-I don't! I HATE these stupid games! You would never catch me watching one of these games, even if I wanted to, which I don't!"  
>Feliciano sighed. "It's alright Arthur-" But he was interrupted by the rugged blonde-haired teens ranting. The Italian sighed again and grabbed the distressed Arthur's uniform by the neck, and started pulling him away from the field. "Veh, we have to go now Arthur...its time for sectionals(5)." He said, dragging away the protesting British eighteen-year old.<p>

After calming down a bit, Arthur looked at the scoreboard. Visitors with thirty-two points, Home with thirty-one points with only seventeen seconds left of the clock. Arthur scoffed, _of course we're losing,_he thought, _this is a stupid American game. Idiots, the lot of them!_He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment. Arthur casually turned away from the field, raising his flute to his lips. He played a few scales and small tunes to warm up his instrument. If he would have been paying better attention, perhaps he would have noticed how close he was to the goal line.

***Scores and Scales***

"You want to do _what_ Alfred?" Vash asked, fern-colored arms wide with alarm, mouth agape.

Alfred, hands on his hips, and smiled widely as he looked at his shocked teammates expressions. "Hahahaha! Ya, you heard me!" He exclaimed, his smile getting as wide as it could get. He crouched down to get closer to his team's faces. "Okay, Vash and Ludwig, your our best offense dudes. So you two, cover me from behind. The rest of you, awesomely get through their defensive line. Ivan," Alfred turned to a large purple-eyed teammate. "Make the pass clear, but wait for my signal. Alright dudes! Lets whip some butt out there! Oh yeah!" A few members of the team shook their heads, still in disbelief.

"I can't believe he actually wants to do this..." Vash murmured to Ludwig.

"I know. I hope he knows what he's doing." A blue-eyed German responded.

Vash nodded, glancing to the sidelines, hoping to get a glimpse of his little sister. She had joined the Cheerleading squad so she could cheer him on. Vash smiled slightly at the memory:

**"Are you sure you want to do this, Lili? You could do other things you know." Vash said, just barely pulling his brand new silver car up to the gym entrance.**  
><strong>Lili, sitting in the seat next to him, pulled a strand of her wavy blonde hair out of her fern-colored eyes before replying, "Yes, I'm sure, Big Brother. I want to be able to cheer you on from the sidelines." She gave Vash a warm smile. Vash looked at her for a moment and thought, <strong>_**She's grown up so fast. How could she get so beautiful and wonderful in such little time?**_

**Finally he sighed and looked away, running his fingers through his sandy-blonde hair. "Fine. But I swear, if any boys lay a finger on you..." He looked at the glove compartment where he hid his emergency pistol.  
>Lili started to giggle. "I'll be fine, Big Brother, I promise." She said, looking him straight in the eyes and holding out her pinky out with another warm smile.<br>Vash tugged on a string sticking out on his blue sweat-pants and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He returned Lilli's gaze with his own, then smiled slightly and entwined his pinkie with hers. "I'm holding you to that promise."**

Vash was snapped out of his thoughts when he was slapped on the back. Vash turned around to meet the strangely reddish eyes of the white-haired Gilbert, a strong Defense player on the team. "Hahaha! This is going to be AWESOME!" his eyes twinkled mischievously as he ran to his place in line. "Hurry up, slow poke! We don't have much time!"  
>***Scores and Scales***<p>

Alfred stood crouched over; looking at both ends of his line, making sure everyone was in their positions. "Freedom 42, ready..." He watched his teammates lean into their positions before yelling, "HIKE!" As the ball was snapped to him, Alfred quickly fake passed to Antonio, Before running left and passing it to Ivan. Still running toward the goal line, Alfred turned his head just in time to see the other team's defense lunge for Antonio. "Sorry, dude!" Alfred cringed while the Spaniard was dog-piled. Picking up speed and running through a small opening in the line, the American turned and started running backwards, giving Ivan the signal. The purple-eyed Russian brought back his arm and with one swift motion, threw the ball towards Alfred.

_Crap! He threw it too hard! _Alfred thought as the ball came sailing towards him. _Maybe I can still be the Hero...I'll just catch it at the goal line! _With those thoughts, Alfred sprinted to the goal line, keeping his eyes on the ball. As he reached up to grab the approaching ball, he suddenly backed into something, falling backwards with a _Thud! _He looked around, just in time to see the ball bounce two feet away from him. The American frowned and jumped up, brushing the dirt off his football uniform. He started to walk away when a gasp stopped him in his tracks.  
>He turned and saw a brunette in a band uniform, clutching a flute, staring at the ground Alfred just landed on, a look of terror on his face. "Yo Dude, whats wrong?" he asked, a confused look on his face.<p>

"A-Arthur!" The band geek whimpered in shock, dropping to the ground, eyes glued to the ground.  
>"What's going on?" A darker haired brunette said, running up with his piccolo in hand.<br>"Lovino! Its Arthur! ...He's been...!" The brunette pointed at the ground.

"What?" Alfred asked, confused. But then he looked down as well, and his eyes widened. What he fell on wasn't ground, but another band geek! The kid who was sprawled on the ground, apparently named Arthur, had his eyes closed. Lovino started yelling for help, and Alfred started to freak out.

"O-Oh my gosh! I Just, I-I just!" Alfred grabbed his helmet with his hands and started to shake his head as other band kids, carrying various instruments came running up, horrified expressions on their faces. "Is he okay?" Alfred asked, voice shaking.  
>"I don't know!" Lovino snapped, kneeling next to the unconscious boy. He then pointed to him and exclaimed, "Why don't you ask him!"<p>

Alfred's Teammates soon came running up from behind the panicking American. "What happened here?" Vash asked, arms out to his side in a questioning manner.  
>"I-I-I.." Alfred stuttered. "Dude that was so AWESOME!" Gilbert said loudly, oblivious to his surroundings. "Man! That was like-" He stopped suddenly in his tracks, finally noticing the marching geek on the ground. "Whoa, Al, What happened?"<p>

Alfred looked back and forth between his team, and the Marching band kids, eyes wide, then pointed at them, crying out, "I didn't mean too! I was getting the ball and I fell on him! Sure, I ran him over on accident, but he was in my way! Or was I in his way? GOD I DONT KNOW! Stop asking me questions! I didn't-" And the terrified American kept on rambling on and on, shaking his head and pacing, hands clutching his helmet.  
>The World Academy band director, Roderich Edelstein, said to the people who came to assist with the knocked out boy, "Take him to the football lockers. He'll be better off there."<br>So Arthur was placed on a stretcher and taken to where the football lockers were, while the panicking American ran down the field, away from the crowd of people, his world spinning out of focus.

***Scores and Scales***

A/N:  
>(1)Warm-ups: Well! Warm-ups, are well...warm-ups. o3o but in this fic, Romano is referring to the Marching band warm-ups that us bandy geeks do before we have to perform our show at halftime. XD some people hate warm-upsSectionals, and some people really like them..and I mean REALLY like them...o_e  
>(2)Land of a Grand: A nickname for a often played Stand-tune, Land of a thousand Dances.<br>(3)attention: Often, the Drum major, (the main conductor for the marching band), will call their band to attention, by saying something like "Band, atten-HUT!" followed by a "Band, horns, are up!" while clapping..it's supposed to get the band's attention, so they'll be ready to play. =w=  
>(4)shows: What the marching band works on their whole season. XD they normally perform them at Half-time at the football games..for crowd entertainment, and to throw in a extra practice before a competition.  
>(5)Sectionals: when the band breaks off into groups, (normally into Brass, Woodwinds, Percussion, and Color Guard), and they practice separately until it's time to join back together and perform their show. its contains Warm-ups(1), breathing exercises, tuning, etc.<br>Hey guys! ^w^ .Pie here..but if it's easier, then just call me Pie...or..idk. XD whatever you want to call me I guess, but I would like to introduce you to Scores and Scales~! :D This is a little plot bunny I got while I was at marching band practice...Who would have thought? XD But anyway, I told my flute friend about it, (I play the French horn), and she loved the idea, and insisted we make it a story..so, wellll...Here we go! XD Were going to try and update once a week, if our Band schedule isn't too crazy so..yeah. o3o But don't kill us if you think this is terrible! 3 it's our first, actual written down fanfiction! DX FRIENDLY criticism is good...but please, no flames. XD I think I'll stop my babbling now...but please, if you can, R&R~! that would totally make my day/week. =w= Anyway, thank you for reading Scores and Scales~! :3  
>C: seeesh...that was a long note, don't you think? O.e Will people actually read it?<br>Me: -shrugs- who knows? XD I figured if people actually do read author's notes, then I would introduce myself...and stuff...kind of. XD  
>C: whatever. =3= just start writing chapter two already! AND FINISH MY PICTURE NOTE! =w=<br>Me: O_O'' O-okay...3" maybe after State finals..

C: Wait, What? O[]O Why not befor—

Alfred: Waaait...I ran over iggy? O[]O  
>Me: -sighs- Yes, you did.<br>Alfred: But..! that's terrible! DX  
>Me: It's not like you actually hurt him in real-<br>Alfred: -whips out cell phone and calls Arthur- ARTIEEEE~! Are you okay? [] I'm so sorry I hurt you!  
>Arthur: What the bloody hell are you talking about?<br>Alfred: I ran you over! oh no, are you losing your memory now too? Im so so so so so sorrrryyyyy! D:  
>Arthur: No I-<br>Me: ANNNYWAYS...3 Tune in next time for Scores and Scales~!


	2. Remembering

A/N: Hi guys! :3 if your reading this…then I wanted to let you know that this chapter is a FLASHBACK! Woaaah, I know huh? Well, I can you can skip this if you really want to…but it will probably play a part in the story…so, read if you wish. U_U

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Arthur, who was ten at the time, was minding his mother's beautiful budding rose garden, pulling up weeds, tending the dirt, and cropping the flowers. There was no need to water the flowers, due to the recent rain, but Arthur watered them anyway.

The boy paused for a second when he heard a door open and close from the house next to his own. "Hm?" the British boy said in utter curiousity, straining his hears to the source of the noise. "Curses. I can't hear a thing." He grumbled to himself, pulling off his used to be flower-printed gardening gloves, that were now darkened by dirt and mud. He sat on the moist ground and considered his limited options: Go back inside to his idiotic brothers, or go investigate.

Just as Arthur was standing up to go back inside, and yell tore through the afternoon silence. "OW OW OW! SCOTTTTT! THAT HURT, YOU SCOTTISH JERK OF JERKS!" A high-pitches voice coming from the belly of Arthur's house complained. "Don't do it again, or I'll tell mum!"

Speak of the devil, there those two gits were, inside bickering over something probably stupid, as usual. Arthur paused and thought about his options again, before shaking his head and thinking, _No. I'm just going to get another headache from those two brats. That's the last thing I need. Another bloody headache keeping me up half the night._ Arthur's thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice, different from his own brothers, quickly being hushed by a much quieter one coming from next door. Hearing this, the young British boy decided to investigate after all, using his highly trained spying skills. Arthur slowly got to his feet and made his way to the back gate, dodging the puddles along the way. Leaning on the cold metal bars, the ten-year old found that he couldn't hear well enough. "Curses," he muttered, lifting a hand to unlock the gate. Once it was opened, Arthur took special care to creep silently up to a row of green bushes lining his neighbor's fence. Once spotting a spot big enough for his small body to fit through, he stepped behind them and crouched down, once again straining his ears to the neighbor's yard, shivering from the cold humid air clinging to his skin. He shook off the uncomfortable feeling it gave him, and listened intently.

"Alfred! Don't be rude!" A angry sounding voice scolded, its volume barely loud enough to hear. "You should be grateful we get to stay here for the week!"

"I know….I am, but _Mattieee_! What if they really _Don't_ have hamburgers here?" a much louder voice whined. "You know I can't go a day without them, man! Ugh, I think I might die right here dude!"

_Hamburgers? Oh. They must be American. …That explains their weird accent, _the British boy thought. The one who Arthur who assumed was 'Mattie' spoke next, almost fearfully to the boy Arthur guessed was Alfred.

"No! don't die Alfred!"

Alfred laughed slightly and said loudly, "I'm not going to die! Hahaha! But I might if I don't get a burger anytime soon!"

'Mattie', realizing that Alfred was only kidding, sighed with relief and defeat. "I'm sure we can find something for you to eat…Now come on I think Mr. and Mrs. Baulker are waiting for us inside."

Arthur, guessing that their conversation was over, he slowly got up and turned away from the neighbors house. As he stepped forward, he froze when a loud _SNAP! _was heard underfoot. Looking down, Arthur found a broken stick under his muddy shoe. "Bloody hell…" the British boy cursed angrily to himself.

***Scores and Scales***

In the front yard next door, two pairs of eyes snapped quickly to where a snapping noise was heard. Matthew suddenly looked very nervous. "A-Al..D-Do you think it was a killer?" He whispered, clutching his polar bear stuffed-animal closer to his chest.

"Pfffft! Don't be silly, Mattie! It was probably just a squirrel or something.." Alfred's bright blue eyes suddenly lit up. "Here, I'll go check it out!" he announced, a look of determination imprinted on his features.

"A-Alfred! W-wait, eh! Don't!" the smaller boy called out as Alfred started to walk to the source of the noise. When the purple-eyed boy realized his brother was not going to come back, he ran after him, burying his face into the polar bear's soft fur. "Don't go without me!" he cried. When Matthew finally caught up to him, he saw Alfred pointing a toy gun at a surprised looking green-eyed boy.

Glancing at his brother, Alfred smiled widely and pointed with his free hand. "Hahaha Mattie! It wasn't a killer! It was some kid with _REEEEEALLLLY_ big eyebrows!" He paused for a moment and then added with a giant grin, "They look like big fuzzy caterpillars!"

***Scores and Scales***

A short time later, Arthur's mother, Mrs. Kirkland, was busy washing the dishes when she heard the back door open and close. "Arthur, is that you? Have you finished tending my garden?" she asked, drying her hands on a clean, floral printed towel. Arthur nodded his head as he came into the kitchen quietly, leaves and twigs sticking out of his messy blonde hair. "Oh just look at you!" she said in a disapproving tone as she walked over to him and plucked out a leaf. "What in the world did you do to get yourself this dirty?"

Arthur didn't respond, looking off into space, a look of thought fixed on his face.

"Well?" she pressed, putting her hands on her hips.

With a small sigh, Arthur finally looked at his mother and said, "There are Americans next door." With that said, he walked to the pantry and retrieved his headache medication, before turning and walking up the stairs to his room.

"Hmm…" Mrs. Kirkland said, putting a finger to her chin in thought. "That must mean that those foreign exchange students are finally here."

***Scores and Scales***

**A/N: Well…there we have it. O3O a hopefully, not too fail flashback. XD I would love to write more into this flashback..but unfortunately, the person I'm writing this for, wants me to actually start getting into the plot. –sighs- she's no fun, but I love her anyway. XD but maybe I'll write a short little side story about what happens to our poor Arthur during that one week..heh, who knows? XD Anyway, Arthur will wake up next chapter, so stay tuned, 'kay? ^ ^ **

**Matthew: w-woah…I didn't know I was included in this story..**

**Me: Really? You didn't know…? O.o well, I guess you do now! **

**Matthew: -is silent for a moment- …I'm actually being acknowledged? **

**Me: …uh…yeah…o.e**

**Alfred: Hahahaha! Who is this Matthew guy? :D**

**Me: -facepalm- Anyways guys, I'll try and have the next chapter posted tonight or tomorrow..so yeah. **

**Matthew: TT^TT s-so stay tuned…**


	3. That kid

A/N: Hi..I'm back…with a new chapter…yeah. I hope your enjoying the story so far..if anyone is actually reading this. XD –shrugs- whatever. I'm going to post this whole story on here anyway, even if I don't get any feedback.

Disclaimer: Nope. Hetalia isn't mine.

Arthur's deep green eyes slowly fluttered open, eyelids feeling as if they weighed a ton. He carefully rubbed his eyes, gazing up at a unfamiliar ceiling when his eyes came into focus. "What the..?" he said, slowly turning his head to study the unfamiliar surroundings. "Where in the name of the Queen am I?" the Brit asked, licking his dry lips. His eyes suddenly widened, and he tried to sit up with difficulty. "W-Wait I'm supposed to be in Section—Ow!" he yelped, closing a eye at the sudden pain spreading through his head. Glancing around, he rubbed his temples and prepared to speak again. "I'm supposed to be in Sectional—" he stopped once again, mid-sentence, as a teen wearing a football jersey came stumbling around the corner, no doubt running to get there.

The boy had a big grin on his face as he said, "Great ma! You're awake! How are you feeling?"

Arthur awkwardly froze and stared at the boy for a moment, pausing his actions to sit up, slowly laid back down. He then blinked and furrowed his eyebrows at the ceiling and replied, "Like I just got hit by a truck."

The boy looked a little embarrassed at that. He began rubbing the back of his neck while looking away with a casual laugh. "O-oh, hehe…sorry about that…"

Arthur froze once more, his expression tightening. "You hit me with a truck?" He asked incredulously, his voice raising a couple of octaves in shock.

"What? No dude!" the teen said with uncertainty. "I just…kinda fell/ran you over when I was trying to get the ball. It was a total accident though, man!"

The green-eyed teen looked confused. Arthur grabbed his forehead, trying to stop the pain. "What?" he asked, looking up at the Football player, his thick eyebrows furrowing even farther.

Arthur took the time the boy used to think of how to answer to look the boy up and down. Arthur noticed that the teen had straight, dark blonde hair, a bit on the messy side, with a cowlick that made some hair bunched together stick straight up. He was tall, lean, and well built, his muscles definite in his arms and legs. The boy always seemed to have a large smile beneath his straight nose. He wore a red, yellow, and white jersey, jeans, a white windbreaker, and black sneakers. But what stuck out the most to the British teen were the boy's eyes, which were a bright, electric blue color that sat behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. The number 50 was printed on the boy's jersey.

_Where have I seen this before? _Arthur _wondered_. _Oh yes! I remember now! Feliciano once told me that the number 50 was the number of the football team's quarterback, Alfred Jones. _Arthur looked him up and down again. _He's the quarterback?_

"—So that's how you ended up here." Alfred finished. Coming back to reality, Arthur blinked, rubbing his temples with a frown. "I'm sorry, uhh, could you explain that all again?"

Alfred looked at Arthur for a moment and said, "Yeah, sure man." Taking a deep breath, the American began explaining what happened, while Arthur was distracted by the fact that the American looked _really_ looked familiar. "—So that's how you ended up here…again." After a small hesitation, Alfred shot his finger up in the air, like he just remembered there was a bomb in the room. "OH! Also, your band director dude who smelled like pizza told me to tell you that he'll try and get you a new flute, A.S.A.P!" With a satisfied smile, Alfred nodded to himself. "I think that was it—"

Arthur immediately cut him off, his face paling. "What happened to my flute?" he demanded.

The blue-eyed boy looked guilty. "Oh…dude. I'm sorry but it kinda got crushed when I fell on you…" he said rubbing the back of his neck, looking at the wall next to him. Then he blushed slightly and said with a embarrassed smile, "Hehe, sorry dude."

"It WHAT?" Arthur yelled, jumping up, but almost falling over due to the numbness in his limbs. "N-No! It couldn't have! That was a gift!" He cried, throwing his arms out dramatically. "Y-You're joking, right?" The British teen said, voice barely above a whisper. His expression was one that showed utter disbelief.

Alfred's expression went from guilty, from a look that was commonly found on a dog that was caught eating your mother's favorite slippers. "S-sorry man.."

Alfred didn't need to say anything more. Arthur slowly sat down, and places his head in his hands before whispering, "I-I…I-Its okay.." he lied.

Alfred looked at the depressed looking teenager, a wave of extreme guiltiness washing over him. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and he fist pumped the air. "Dude! I know!" the quarterback shouted with a giant grin, startling the British boy sitting across from him.

"W-what?" Arthur asked quietly, placing a hand on his heart, feeling years of his life slipping away.

"Hahaha! Dude, I'm totally going to take you to go buy a brand new flute! Rock out man!" Alfred exclaimed, smiling so wide he had to close his eyes.

"What? No!" Arthur said sternly, emerald eyes meeting electric blue.

The look on the American's idiotic face clearly told Arthur that he wasn't going to Take no for an answer. "HAHAHA! Dude! You can't tell a hero no when he's trying to save a Damsel in Distress!" he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear, his hands placed firmly on his hips.

Arthur flushed a bright red. "I-I am NOT a _**damsel in distress, **_you git!" he spat.

"Well, just for today you are! Hahaha! Well hurry up and get changed, Artie! Or the awesome train will leave without ya!"

"Then that would be my lucky day, wouldn't it?" Arthur frowned. "An don't call me 'Artie!' My name is _Arthur!_" Arthur exclaimed, wondering how the boy standing across from him knew his name.

Alfred looked at the upset teenager, winked and said with a mischievous smile, "…Well, do you want the flute, or not?"

Arthur stood up, shook his head and said slowly, "…Fine, you git." He turned to where the band room was, then added, "Meet me by the flagpole in thirty minutes."

Alfred gave Arthur the thumbs up sign and grinned. "You got it!"

***Scores and Scales***

The idiot was late, of course. Ten minutes to be exact, but who was counting? Certainly not Arthur. But, Arthur expected no different from the World Academy's football star. He was probably off flirting with some giggle-crazy girl. Arthur was about to leave when he heard a "Hey, Artie!" coming from behind him. Turning around slightly, he saw the idiot waving at him, a stupid grin on his face. With a sigh, he slowly walked over to Alfred.

"My name is Arthur you git, not 'Artie'" he grumbled.

Alfred ignored him. "Whoa, Artie! Ya going on a date after this or what?" He asked, looking the green-eyed teen up and down.

Arthur felt his face heat up. "No! I always dress like this!" he said, motioning to his white, long sleeved collared shirt beneath his green dark sweater-vest.

A smile spread slowly on Alfred's face. "Oh, okay…my car is this way.." He started to walk to the parking lot, Arthur trailing behind him. Alfred stuffed his hands in his pockets, and gave a sideways glance at Arthur again. This guy was short and had blonde hair that was messy, but not in a bad way. But what made Alfred wan to laugh was what the guy was wearing. With all his power, Alfred tried his best to contain his laughter. But in the process, he made a sputtering-snorting nose.

"Is something funny?" The British teen asked harshly, looking at the blue-eyed boy closely. All Alfred had to do was take one more look at Arthur before he found himself unable to control his laughter.

"Hehehe, no man its…Hahaha…..Hahahaha! It's just what in the world are you wearing, exactly? It haha, makes me want to, hahahaha!" Alfred said, clutching his sides.

Arthur, looking offended, turned to yell at Alfred. "Well. Excuse me if you don't like the way I dress, you git! Deal with it! You know what? I don't need a flute from you! Good-day!" and with that so clearly stated, he whipped around and started stomping away, fists clenched at his sides.

Alfred stopped laughing at that, and called out to Arthur, "Whoa, Whoa, dude!" He ran quickly in front of the flustered Englishman, having to hop a little from going so fast. "Wait, wait, wait, wait man! I'm sorry dude! Please don't go!"

"Leave me alone!"

"Awwww, c'mon man! Don't be a hater!"

"Oh, I'm hating! And I'm hating just fine!"

Alfred paused for a split second, then reached out and took hold of the teens arm.

"Unhand me!" The furious boy demanded, whipping around, ready to knock the living daylights out of this American, but suddenly stopped.

Alfred was staring down, right into Arthur's eyes, the expression of a kicked puppy on his face. "Arthur, I'm so sorry…I won't do it again Ever, I promise." The blue-eyed teen outlined a X on his chest, with his free hand and then put it on Arthur's head. "Pwomise." He whispered, bottom lip quivering.

Pausing, Arthur looked at Alfred for a moment, and hen peeled his eyes off of him, his face turning a little red. "Fine." He said quietly, still not looking at the American.

Alfred's face lit up at that. "Yeah man, let's go!" he started to walk away, but then Arthur looked at him like he was a complete idiot. Alfred stopped when he noticed the emerald eyed teen wasn't following him. "Yo dude, what's the hold up?"

"Please, would you let go of my arm?" Arthur said, indicating that the quarterback was still holding onto the band geek's arm.

"Sorry, Sorry!" Arthur said, releasing Arthur's arm and raising both of his hands in defense. "Hahahaha! Okay! Now we can get movin!" he said excitedly, a smile on his face. With that said, he turned and started running to the parking lot. "C'mon!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and started following the over eager American. As he walked, he teen grabbed his arm and thought, _that guy is really strong. He nearly bruised my whole forearm._ Arthur watched as Alfred waited patiently at his red and blue sports car, a half smile imprinted on his face. Arthur's face flushed slightly as he thought again, _I'm just going with him to get a new flute, that's all._ But of course, he would never admit that he couldn't resist those big, blue puppy dog eyes.

**Scores and Scales***

A/N: Wooo, this chapter took awhile to type up…DX My fingers are dead. =3= Well, I hoped you like this…the next chapter will feature the music store. Oooooohhh~! –jazz fingers-

Anywhoo…crap, I forgot what I was going to say…meh, whatever. –flails arms-

Arthur: t-theres nothing wrong with the way I dress…r-right?

Pie: Of course not, Arthur. =w=

Arthur: phew…that's a relief.

Pie: heh, yeah, I guess. w

Arthur: Well then, if you wish to follow this idiotic story onward, then stay tuned. Like my flute.

Pie: pffffffffffff! XD


	4. Flutes and Friendships

The car ride was nothing less than downright awkward, In Alfred's opinion. Alfred kept trying to turn the radio on to some hip hop and rap, but whenever he tried, Arthur insisted that he turn it off, then mutter something about idiotic American music. Dude, totally offensive! Eventually, Alfred gave up with a frown, and they rode to the music store in silence.

The blue-eyed teen let out a relieved sigh as he turned the car into the music store's parking lot. He was trying to be nice to this dude, it was the least he could do after what had happened, but Arthur seemed to hate him. _Gee whiz dude, I said I was sorry. I didn't mean too.._ , the quarterback thought, shaking his head as he pulled into a parking space with a pout. "DUDE! Were here!" Alfred announced with another one of his half smiles.

"Obviously." Arthur muttered under his breath, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"Yeah! Now let's go look for the awesomest flue EVER! Hahaha!"

"Whatever, let's just get this over with."

Alfred pouted again and opened the car door and stepped out with a grin. "Alright!" He closed the car door and breathed in the cold night air with a happy sigh. "Ah. Hurry it up Artie~! We don't have all night!" Arthur opened and closed the car door with a sigh, shivering slightly. "Whatever, let's just hurry up and get inside." He said, rubbing his arms.

***Scores and Scales***

"Hold up, dude! That's a French corn?" Alfred asked, pointing to a shiny brass instrument with a look that read confusion.

Arthur smacked his forehead. "No, Alfred! That's a French _HORN_. How in the bloody world did you get 'corn' anyway?"

"Hahahaha! To break it to you man, I have no idea!" The blue-eyed boy said loudly, placing his hands on his hips as he took a look at his surroundings. There were a bunch of super thin dudes and chicks holding these really funny looking things Alfred assumed were instruments. The building looked about fifty to sixty years old; the paint on the walls were beginning to peel. Gross. Didn't these guys know how to paint? Smelling the air, he could smell something weird, Like a mix of old people and soap. Alfred looked around himself again, and then a shiny bronze-colored instrument caught his eye. "Oooooohhh! What is that?" He asked, running up to it.

"That?" Arthur asked, glancing over his shoulder. "Oh. That's a trumpet. Not really my favorite instrument." The British boy said, waving his hand dismissively, following the quarterback.

"Oh my gosh! Duuude! That's the awesomest name everrr!"

"Yeah, I guess," Arthur said, scratching his head. "Why, are you interested in it?"

Alfred froze at that, standing straight up. "I-I'm not! Pfft! Instruments, so lame. No offense Arthur." He said quickly, eyes trained on floor.

Arthur just shrugged at that and started walking to where the flutes were. Alfred followed slowly behind the determined looking brit, making sure he couldn't see him turn around and smile at the neat row of trumpets. The American turned back around and ran up to Arthur, smiling like no other.

Arthur rolled his eyes and picked up a flute and started studying it closely, as if it held a secret compartment.

Alfred stood next to him, looking completely bored out of his mind. Finally, something red and shiny caught his eye and he spun around, exclaiming loudly, "Whoa Artie! Look at that red tute!" he pointed at a red tinted flute, hiding among some normal looking silver ones.

Arthur glanced at it before shaking his head. "No, I need a silver one. And its pronounced FLUTE. Not tute, you blockhead."

"Awww, but that one's so cooool!" Alfred protested.

The British teen sighed and gently put the flute down before picking up another, pressing the keys in a testing manner. "Alfred, I need a silver one. I don't know how much more clear I can get."

The American stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. "Fiiiinee…but could ya hurry? I want to go look at some more instruments."

Arthur sighed for probably the 5th time that night and said, "Fine. This one will do." He held out a silver flute to Alfred.

"Pffft, that one's boring. It's got no color."

Arthur's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "Did you even hear a bloody word I said?"

Alfred didn't answer. He was already making his way to the checkout counter. On his way over there, he pointed out a small electric guitar hanging above the counter . "Dude! I'm totally going to ask for one of those for Christmas!" he said, waving his arms excitedly.

The green-eyed Englishman closed his eyes and followed Alfred to the counter, rubbing his temples. _He's such a kid,_ he thought, handing the flute to Alfred once more when he reached him. Alfred turned to the counter and gave the flute to a small girl with glasses. Arthur noticed that she took longer to wrap up the flute for Alfred then she did with the other customers. Alfred noticed this too, and looked sideways at Arthur, who was tapping his foot impatiently, his expression one that was mixed with one of awkwardness, and a scared puppy.

After much stalling and increasing awkwardness, the girl finally gave Alfred the flute he paid for. "H-Have a nice day, sir." She said quietly, blushing slightly. Alfred just nodded to her and turned, practically running out the store, Arthur close behind him.

When they reached Alfred's car, the blue-eyed American let out a big breath he didn't realize he was holding, and shook his head. Shaking his head a second time, he glanced at Arthur, a grin on his face. "Duuuude, you could totally tell she was into me!" he paused for a moment. "It was a bit weird though, huh Arthur? The way she kept stalling..but that doesn't matter! That was fun Artie!"

Arthur glanced at Alfred, silent for a moment. " …Maybe a little, I suppose." He admitted. It's actually been awhile since the Brit has been anywhere.

The blue-eyed teen grinned at Arthur's words. "Maybe we should hang out more then! We could become Best buddies, dude!" his grin expanded as he threw his arms up in the air dramatically.

The British teen hesitated at that, "Best buddies..?" he asked, looking up at the taller teen.

"Yeah man! You're a pretty awesome guy, even though you're in the marching band, and you dress funny, but who cares?"

The emerald-eyed boy just rolled his eyes. "Theres nothing wrong with being in the Marching band Alfred." He sighed and added, "well, perhaps we can become what you Americans call, 'Best Buddies'."

Alfred fist pumped the air. "Yes! Now let's get a move on!" he said as he hopped into the front seat of his car.

Arthur, thinking about what he just said to Alfred, let a small smile escape from his lips.

***Scores and Scales***

A/N: Phew…Eh, this chapter was a little on the short side..but the chapters won't be so short and sweet anymore…The next chapter will be in school, and you know how those go..unless you don't. O.o well…I don't know what to say now. XD

Arthur: you really put yourself in a awkward situation, didn't you, Pie?

Pie: s-shut up! /[]/ no one asked you!

Arthur: -shrugs- so what happens next?

Pie: well, you and-

Camille: -randomly jumps in- FIND OUT NEXT TIME IN—

Pie: o[]o HEY! Cami—

Camille: SCORES AND SCALES~! –jazz fingers-

Arthur: -sighs and walks away, rolling eyes-

Pie: t-that was my line…TT^TT


	5. Lets get ready to rumble!

A/N: Okay, Guys, I'm SO SO SOOOOO sorry I haven't updated! DDX I swear I haven't died…I have just been really busy with the holidays and the marching band. I promise I'll get back to work on Scores and Scales, AND Paper Plane, for whoever reads that…and also, I have two more Hetalia fics planned. ^ ^'' But..Perhaps, if you are the 10th reviewer, I could write you a short oneshot with a pair of your choosing. ^ ^

Anyway, I'm sure your ready for me to stop babbling and start the story…so Here you go! Enjoy~!

Disclaimer: Pshaawww. No, you silly gits! I don't own Hetalia.

Warnings: …..

***Scores and Scales***

The next few days, In Alfred's opinion, were completely boring and uneventful. _This is the WORST, most un-cool day in the history of un-cool days! _The blue eyed American thought, slowly stepping out of his car to start walking up to the football locker room. _Wait! _Alfred thought, a lightbulb going off in his head, _the marching band always has practices on Saturdays! I can totally see Artie today! Rock on! _Alfred then brofisted the air and began walking faster, grinning childishly from ear to ear. He had actually come to like the British boy he had actually run over, even if that guy was a little mean at times. Plus, he liked the way Arthur talked with his accent. In his opinion, it made the guy twenty times cuter. Wait_, no, scratch that. It made the guy twenty times FUNNIER. Yeah, that's it. _The American reassured himself with a silent laugh. Thinking about Arthur's accent, he pushed the open the locker room door.

His smile was soon replaced with a frown as he walked through the door, being met with a eerie silence. "Ummm…Guys? Dudes, where are you? Helllooooo?" Alfred called out loudly, his voice echoing off the walls._ What the hamburgers? Where is everyone?_ He thought, looking around the spacious room curiously.

As if they had read his thoughts, a voice soon made itself heard. "Hey! Alfred! We're over here!" Vash called, popping his head from around an aisle of lockers. "You have to hurry and come see this!"

The blue eyed boy pursed his lips, looking confused. "Uh, Okay?" Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he followed Vash around the corner and to the locker room exit door, finding his team huddled around it, all of them in uniform. "Um, guys, why are you just standing around the door? The cheerleaders aren't out today…." The American reminded them, walking to the door to see what his team was so worked up over.

"We know that, Alfred!" Gilbert snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he turned to face the blue eyed teen. "The stupid band is going out to the stadium!" The albino teen exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "This is so UN-awesome!"

Alfred just blinked, not understanding the problem. "Uhhhh..? Okay? Why don't we just move to the other field then?"

The tan skinned Antonio spoke up, "But fratello, the football stadium is called the football stadium for a reason! We're the football team, so we should get to use the field." The Spaniard concluded with a nod to the other teens around him.

Ludwig nodded, turning to look at Alfred. "I'm sorry Alfred, but I have no choice but to agree with them."

Alfred bit his lip nervously, looking at the upset faces of his teammates. "But guys, c'mon. Let's just find another field to practice on, okay? Okay. Now I gotta go change into uniform, so I want you guys to go to the south field and begin warming up. I'll be out in a sec!"

Before his team could protest, the blue eyed teen whipped around and ran to the showers, his thoughts of Arthur's "funny" accent gone.

***Scores and Scales***

A silence settled among the team as their captain left them. Gilbert, of course, was the first to break the uncomfortable silence, his voice a harsh whisper. "I won't stand for this crap! I say we go put the marching band in their place!" The white-haired albino said as he turned to face his teammates, crimson eyes gleaming mischievously. "Who's with me?"

***Scores and Scales***

Arthur sighed deeply, taking out and putting together his brand new flute. "Feliciano, do we need drill(1) today?" the emerald eyed Brit asked, interrupting Feliciano's rant about an Italian restaurant that had recently closed down.

"Huh? Oh, yes, I believe so…" the brunette paused to think. "Veh, Arthur, are you sure your okay to march today? Mr. Eldenstein said you could take another day off…"

Arthur shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Just a tad bit sore, that's all…you don't need to worry about me." Arthur stated as he pulled out his drill book(2) and placed it around his neck.

"Veh, okay…if you're sure…" Feliciano whispered, clutching his flute to his chest.

The British teen glanced at the worried Italian with a sigh. "I'm sorry Feliciano. Let's start heading out to the field." The green-eyed boy said, starting to walk with the brunette next to him. "We're in the stadium today, correct?"

Feliciano suddenly grinned wide, nodding several times. "Yes! Aren't you excited, Arthur? I just LOVE going out to the stadium~!" The Italian boy exclaimed, jumping in the air excitedly, causing his drill book to swing around and hit Lovino in the back of the head. Lovino slowly turned around, his face a blotchy red color. When seeing this face, Feliciano froze, eyes widening as he cowered back in fear. "O-Ohhh! Arthur, I think we should be going now!" The brunette shouted, voice squeaking as he grabbed Arthur's arm and basically started dragging the British boy out of the room, and to the stadium. Feliciano kept glancing behind him in fear of a sudden attack by his angry Italian brother. But Arthur, on the other hand, finally got the surprisingly strong Italian to let go of his arm after much struggling and cursing.

"Ouch! Bloody hell, Feliciano! Your hand will probably give me a bruise the size of one of my mother's scones!" The irritated emerald eyed boy growled, rubbing some feeling back into his arm.

"Whew! That was a close one, huh Arthur?" The brunette said with a sigh of relief as they entered the stadium.

Arthur just grumbled curses, some not age appropriate, trying to rub the life back into his arm. Suddenly, a loud shout followed by confused sounding voices filled the air. "What the bloody hell is it now?" Arthur snapped, stomping around the corner to find a small group of band kids surrounded by the football team in full pads. "What the—" Arthur began, only to be cut off by a loud, obnoxious shout from a white-haired albino football player, who was carrying a worn out football in his right hand.

"This is the _Football_ stadium, band freaks! That means _WE_ get to practice here!"

A confused looking dirty-blonde haired girl holding a French horn slowly spoke up. "B-but Mr. Eldenstein said that—"

The crimson eyed football player thrusted his face in front of hers, cutting her off, "I don't give a crap about what that un-awesome band director of yours said! Just get off our field!"

Arthur, who had already lost his temper quite awhile ago, had heard enough. Shoving his flute in the arms of the scared Feliciano's, he huffed his way angrily to the crowd of people. "What the bloody hell is going on here?"

A trumpet player standing next to the girl with the French horn pointed to the albino with her instrument saying, "They say they're using the stadium today…But Mr. Eldenstein said that he asked the coach—"

Again, the irritating albino football player cut the girl off. "I said, we don't care, you idiot! So why don't you just shut that unawesome hole on your face?"

The trumpet girl's face flushed a bright red as she tried to run at the football player, thankfully being held back by the girl with the French horn. "YOU WANNA GO?" The trumpet girl shouted, ignoring the dirty blonde girls pleads for her to calm down, and struggling to attack the red-eyed teen.

"Not with you, you Bit—"

This time, the albino was the one who was cut off as Arthur whirled around to glare emerald colored daggers at the football teen in front of him. "Oi! Shut your bleeding mouth! Our band director spoke with your coach about us using the blasted field, you bloody git! We tried explaining that kindly to you, but what you really need to do is clean out your bleeding ears and listen to what other bloody people have to say for once, you git-faced wanker!" he snapped at the albino teen, his tone filled with obvious annoyance.

Everyone around him was shocked to silence, besides two people: the clearly angry albino German who "just got told", and a silvered-haired Russian, who was giggling madly at the scene. Arthur slowly simmered down, realizing he probably just shouted his death sentence.

A pale hand suddenly shot out, grabbing Arthur by the shirt collar and lifting him off the ground. "_WHAT _did you just say?" the white haired German seethed, yanking Arthur forward so their faces were inches apart.

Arthur, who was only surprised for a moment, smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Y-you heard me." The British teen said, coughing slightly.

"G-Gilbert! Let Arthur go!" Feliciano cried, running up to the albino, tugging on the player's sleeve.

Gilbert pushed the Italian boy away with his free hand. "Stay out of this, Feli!" Gilbert snapped, eyes staring into Arthur's emerald colored ones, his own crimson eyes burning with hatred. Arthur flinched, closing his eyes tightly as Gilbert raised a fist, ready to strike.

Gilbert was just about to throw the punch when a loud voice rang out into the air, breaking the intense silence.

"**GILBERT, WHAT THE FREAK ARE YOU DOING?"**

All heads snapped in the direction of the voice, finding a confused looking blonde boy in a football uniform, running towards them as fast as he could.

Gilbert dropped Arthur, who stumbled backwards, rubbing his throat and coughing a few times. Gilbert, who was in shock of his team captain's sudden appearance, couldn't form words. "A-Alfred, I-I—"

The American came to a stop in front of the group, shaking his head and cutting the albino German off. "No man, I don't want to hear it!" Alfred rubbed the back of his head, looking extremely disappointed. "Gilbert, I'm going to have to ask you to sit out for the first half of this week's game." He then let his hand drop to his side as he looked at Arthur, who was staring at the blue-eyed American in shock.

The Albino's crimson eyes widened. "W-what? No! You can't do that, Al! Please! I'm sorry!"

Alfred shook his head. "Yes I can, Gil. Maybe this will teach you to follow your captain's orders. Let your actions be an example." The American said, glaring at each of his teammates, disappointment shown clearly on his face. "Now, let's go to the south field, like I originally told you to do." The American said, turned around, starting to walk away. "Well? Are you guys coming?" the team hesitated for a moment, and then ran to Alfred, surrounding him as they followed.

Arthur just stared after them, along with the other band kids, all of them still in shock from the star quarter back's sudden appearance. "A-Alfred…he helped me..." the British boy whispered to himself.

Feliciano looked at the British boy, "Veh? Did you say something Arthur?"

Arthur kept staring at the leaving team for a moment, and then turned to look Feliciano. "…No…I didn't say anything at all." he said quietly, looking down at the ground.

Feliciano nodded a few times before his eyes widened, remembering the situation they were just in. "O-Oh! Arthur! Veh, I almost forgot! Are you okay?" Feliciano hurriedly asked, his soft brown eyes filled with concern.

The emerald-eyed teen shook his head and rubbed his neck, wincing slightly at the sharp pain of his new rash marks that the Albino teen had so graciously given to him. "I'm completely fine, Feliciano." Arthur muttered, looking up one more time to where the football team had headed, surprised to see Alfred staring at him, a look of deep concern on his face, his team nowhere in sight. When the blue-eyed teen saw Arthur was looking at him, Alfred smiled widely and winked at the messy-haired Brit, then turned around and started running towards the South field.

Arthur watched him leave, his face flushed slightly. He couldn't hide the small smile that crept onto his face as he watched the American teen disappear from his view.

***Scores and Scales***

(1) Drill: It's a book that a lot of bands put together that has the "dots", or location of our spots in each one of the sets/formations in our show.

(2)Drill book: Our band uses a small little book, and we glue our sets/ our dots onto each page, then we put the book on a string, or in a binder, and carry it around our necks during practice, so that we can check to make sure were in the right spots. Sorry if this doesn't make sense…Its pretty late here. XD

A/N: Whew…geez, that actually took longer to type then I thought…but then again, I did stop during it to look at Vocaloid videos...w'' Heheh. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter…Again, I'm going to apologize...I'm really sorry this took so long to post. I was really busy…even though I had break. –sighs tiredly- Now, I must post the next chapter of Paper Plane, and then start writing the next chapter for this story. SO, on that note, I shall see you all later~!

Alfred: HAHA! Artie, I totally saved you! You were like a damsel in distress, and I was the handsome Hero that came and saved you from an evil albino dragon!

Arthur: -blushes- y-you git! I'm not a Damsel in distress!

Alfred: Hahahaha, yes you are!

Arthur: NO I'M NOT!

Pie: Oi! Calm down ladies! You're spamming the author's note! DX although..this is probably entertaining them more than the actual author's note is…-mutters-

Alfred: awww…fiiiiiineeee…We'll see you next time on Scores and Scales, Ok? Okay! See you all later, dudes! Me and Artie have to go to Mickey D's and grab some lunch!

Arthur: Ughhh, anything but that horrible place! DX

Alfred: heeheehee, no way man! Mickey D's is the only way to go! –drags England away- Now, say goodbye to the nice people~!

Arthur: -sighs- goodbye, you bloody gits..tune in next time for Scores and Scales. =_=''


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